


Sleeping Habits

by LadyDisdayne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDisdayne/pseuds/LadyDisdayne
Summary: Qui-Gon first noticed his Padawan’s pesky habit after a training mission gone wrong. He didn’t expect to gain one, or two, of his own.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 86
Collections: Backwards QuiObi Bang





	Sleeping Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Johdals fantastic art! There Tumblr can be found [HERE!](https://johdals.tumblr.com/). Thank you to the QuiObi Server for the bogling piles idea! 
> 
> Unbetaed - all mistakes are mine and mine alone

Qui-Gon first noticed it after a particularly bad training mission to Mimban. Qui-Gon had been happy to leave the Sith-damned mud pit of a planet behind, but he was even happier that none of the Padawans, or their Masters, involved in the exercise had been killed or even too seriously injured in the sudden mudslides and violent weather. 

It was a habit leftover from their days in the creche, a source of comfort and bonding as younglings that had become popular in more recent years. They called it a bogling pile, sleeping pressed close together, using one another for heat and comfort. Now as Padawans, and even Knights, many of those raised on it had kept the habit. He had noticed Obi-Wan’s tendency to nap in the gardens, his head resting on Quinlan or Bant’s stomach, but hadn’t noticed his Padawan had ever actively participated in such sleeping arrangements. 

But now, looking back on their time together, Qui-Gon wondered if he had been mistaken about Obi-Wan’s preferred sleeping arrangements. Obi-Wan had never been a particularly heavy sleeper, even when exhausted from their duties as Jedi. He would spend most of his nights tossing and turning, often even only getting a few hours rest. More often than not, Qui-Gon would retire well before his Padawan only to find Obi-Wan awake before him the following morning. 

That night, tired and dirty from the mission, but surrounded by a huddled mass of Jedi, Obi-Wan slept soundly, his head tucked firmly under Qui-Gon’s chin, his arms and legs draped carelessly over Qui-Gon’s body. 

Qui-Gon huffed at ridiculousness of the habit as he laid with his Padawan on the hard floor of the ship’s hold, and told himself that no matter how nice it felt to hold Obi-Wan in his arms, safe and warm, it wouldn’t ever become a habit of his own. 

And then he had almost died six months later during their disastrous mission to Naboo and the resulting discovery of the growing Sith influence in the galaxy. When he awoke, mostly unharmed, he was greeted with an arm full of worried Padawan, who was stretched next to him on the medibed, curled as close as the cables and monitors would allow. It was delightful, the sweet scent of Obi-Wan’s preferred soap tickling at his nose, the man he loved so dearly safe and happy in his arms. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan stirred but didn’t move away. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I am alright. Are you unharmed?” 

Obi-Wan nodded, his spiky hair brushing against Qui-Gon’s face. “Yes.” Qui-Gon started to ask about Anakin, the Sith, what had happened. But Obi-Wan hushed him with a single sound, continuing, “The Sith has been dealt with and Anakin is with Master Yoda. We can just rest, my Master. Everything else can wait for another day.” 

Obi-Wan laid his head against Qui-Gon’s chest, above his heart, and quickly fell to sleep. Ignoring his concerns and thoughts of warning, Qui-Gon gave in and pulled Obi-Wan closer, drifting back to sleep to the soft sounds of Obi-Wan’s snoring, knowing that it would never happen again. 

But happen again it did. Night after night Obi-Wan would slip into Qui-Gon’s bed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world that he was there, practically laying on top of his Master. Qui-Gon was reluctant to admit just how right it felt when he awoke morning after morning to Obi-Wan’s warmth, thoughts of just how much he wished he could kiss Obi-Wan awake plaguing him long after they had prepared for the day.

It had been months since his near death on Naboo and Obi-Wan had spent every night since in Qui-Gon’s bed, his head pillowed on Qui-Gon’s chest as if listening to his heart beat. It had been driving the Master insane, knowing it meant nothing beyond a better night’s sleep to his Padawan. 

Just when Qui-Gon thought it couldn’t get much worse, Obi-Wan surprised him again. It was the sweetest kind of torture, waking up to Obi-Wan, his leg draped over Qui-Gon’s thigh rubbing his hard cock, soft moans slipping from his parted lips. It took all of Qui-Gon’s self control to gently use the Force to nudge at Obi-Wan’s sleeping mind, gently guiding him towards new dreams. 

The next night, Qui-Gon realized he was in love, deeply irrevocably in love, with Obi-Wan, he had turned in for the night well before Obi-Wan had returned from studying in the archives. Qui-Gon felt himself grow anxious for his Padawan’s return, eager for the warmth and touch of another. 

As the hours dragged on, the time alone gave Qui-Gon time to mull over Obi-Wan’s sleeping habits and what was developing between them, at least what was developing on his side. The thought of waking up next to Obi-Wan, the lithe body pressed tight against his own, warm with sleep, tempting and inviting, but being unable to touch, to worship his Padawan like he deserved, ripped Qui-Gon’s heart apart with yearning. 

He had been slowly falling in love with Obi-Wan for months, years if he was honest with himself, but knew that Obi-Wan saw him as nothing more than a mentor and friend. He had resigned himself to seeing Obi-Wan through his remaining trials and planned on dealing with the fallout of his emotional attachment as they grew further apart after Obi-Wan’s knighting. He would take the young Anakin Skywalker as his next apprentice after he finished his time in the creche (hopefully without the bogling pile sleeping habits) and bury himself in his work as a Jedi once more. 

Qui-Gon sighed, rolling onto his side, before deciding that he would end this tonight, before he could grow even more attached. He rolled again, settling in to wait for his Padawan, his heart heavy with regrets for what might have been. 

Qui-Gon stopped Obi-Wan before he could even enter the room, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to convince himself, let alone Obi-Wan, that this needed to stop if he was still  _ in  _ the troublesome bed. 

“Obi-Wan, we can’t keep doing this. You need to sleep in your own room.” Qui-Gon’s chest throbbed as he said it, his heart at war with his mind. He knew it was what was best for both of them, and their relationship, as Obi-Wan took his trials in the coming months. What he wasn’t ready to admit to himself was just how much of that was an excuse, a way to avoid the devastation of rejection if Obi-Wan knew his true feelings. 

Hurt and shock flashed across Obi-Wan’s face, “But, Master. I can’t sleep without you. I lo— ” Obi-Wan stiffened, as if realizing what he had said and his face fell into a mask of indifference.

Qui-Gon continued, ignoring the desire to take it all back, to drag Obi-Wan into his arms, and bed, for good. “You’ll be fine, Obi-Wan. If you need to wean your way out of youngling creche habits, find one of your fellow Padawans to indulge you until you can sleep alone.”

“No! You misunderstand. I can’t sleep without  _ you,  _ my Master. _ ”  _ Obi-Wan almost whispered, sorrow lacing his voice.

Frustrated with himself for letting it get this far, Qui-Gon snapped, “Padawan! You are almost a Knight, I doubt you need such coddling at this stage of your life. You are not a youngling, you don’t need a bogling pile to sleep.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened wide in surprise, “Bogling pile... Master, that’s not...I—”

Qui-Gon waved his apprentice to silence, “That’s enough, Obi-Wan. You will sleep in your own room, in your own bed. Now, we both need to rest.” 

Obi-Wan went stiff, his stance instantly formal. “Of course, Master. I apologize for disturbing your rest. I am needed early at the archives. I will not be here when you wake and will not return until late.” Obi-Wan bowed, stiff and traditional, but Qui-Gon could see his eyes were rimmed red with tears, their bond flooding with hurt and pain. 

Before Qui-Gon could say more, the door slid shut along with Obi-Wan’s mental shields, plummeting Qui-Gon into darkness. He sighed and curled into bed, hoping that the ache in his heart would ease as he slept. It was what was best for them both, and he knew he could sleep soundly comforted by that thought. 

Instead, hours later, Qui-Gon still lay wide awake, cold in the much too large bed without Obi-Wan beside him. He regretted not letting Obi-Wan say his piece, the Padawan’s unfinished statement as taunting as his tear filled gaze as it replayed over and over in his mind. He knew he had hurt his Padawan, had carved a new rift between them with his harsh words.

_ I can’t sleep without you, my Master.  _ Obi-Wan’s repeated words again echoed in ears, the broken sound of Obi-Wan’s voice breaking his heart further. He should have been kinder in his words, should have asked what Obi-Wan needed to sleep on his own. Instead, he knew Obi-Wan would go right back to his sleepless nights, overworking himself as new dark circles formed under his eyes. 

_ I can’t sleep without you, my Master.  _ Again the words played in his mind, the brief glimpse of Obi-Wan’s excruciating pain he felt before Obi-Wan’s shields slammed shut. The pain he had caused had been so great, so baffling. Did sleeping next to someone really mean so much to Obi-Wan, that it would cause the Padawan’s heart to scream in pain, to close him out completely?

_...without  _ **_you_ ** _ , my Master…  _ Obi-Wan’s broken voice echoed again, tearing at Qui-Gon’s heart.

Qui-Gon bolted upright, the realization of what Obi-Wan had been trying to say driving him to his feet and to his Padawan’s door.

Obi-Wan sat up as the door slid open, his eyes still red with tears. It was obvious the Padawan hadn’t slept and spent the night in pain, aching to be held and loved. Because of Qui-Gon, because the Master couldn’t see beyond his own fears. Tears of his own ran down Qui-Gon’s face as he stood in the doorway, undeserving of Obi-Wan’s forgiveness. 

Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon carefully before simply asking. “Do you understand, Master?”

Qui-Gon nodded, “Yes.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond, instead he lifted the corner of his blanket in invitation. Qui-Gon didn’t hesitate to comply. The sleeping couch was much smaller than his bed, and it forced him to wrap himself around Obi-Wan. The smaller man nuzzled into Qui-Gon’s neck.

“I am sorry my Padawan. I thought...I thought you just wanted someone to sleep next to, like the creche bogling piles. I never imagined...”

“It's alright, Master.” Obi-Wan placed a small kiss over Qui-Gon’s heart. “As long as you promise me one thing.”

“And what would that be, Obi-Wan?” 

“Never let me sleep alone again.” Obi-Wan looked up into Qui-Gon’s eyes, his own light up in happiness.

“Never again, my own. Never again.” Qui-Gon leaned forward, capturing Obi-Wan’s mouth with a kiss.

This was a habit Qui-Gon planned on keeping. 


End file.
